


Granger-Malfoy Holiday Traditions Part 5

by Taurwen13



Series: Taurwen13's 2019 Holiday Adventures and Short Stories [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bigger On The Inside, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents, F/M, Family Feels, Owls, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taurwen13/pseuds/Taurwen13
Summary: Hermione still heavily feels the loss from being unable to return her parents' memories. At no time is this felt as heavily as it is around Christmas.This year, their first year together, Draco swears it will be different. Journey with them as they set out to relive some of the Granger household's lost traditions and learn to make a few of their own.Part 5 - Christmas Day!In which our characters finally reach Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and the surprises they have for each other are revealed.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Taurwen13's 2019 Holiday Adventures and Short Stories [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534241
Kudos: 15





	Granger-Malfoy Holiday Traditions Part 5

Hermione had been on the brink of bursting for days. Draco could always tell when she was trying to keep a surprise from him, and unlike how things normally went down she was actually doing a decent job of not letting it slip. They had made it all the way to Christmas Eve and Draco still didn’t know what the witch had planned. That was fine with him, though. He knew it wouldn’t be long now before he found out, and he had a few tricks up his sleeve as well.

While at the biscuit baking party, Draco had pulled Neville aside to see what plants would best suit a small owl habitat. After pinpointing exactly which kind of owl he was considering getting, the herbology professor had given him an exhaustive list of what he could assemble to make a tawny owl more than comfortable. Draco had bought all of it the moment he had picked up the specially crafted piece of furniture he had commissioned a few days after the party. It looked like a small engraved wardrobe about the size of an owl cage with two tall doors that opened from the center, and once Draco had enlisted the help of an expanding charm there was more than enough room to create a small forest inside. He had also set loose a few mice colonies in there and set up a few weather charms at Neville’s suggestion, with his assurances that the only problem that might arise was that a tawny could get lonely without a mate. Draco had then decided to purchase an established pair, which was good, because now both he and Hermione could have their own owl.

They were there, now, in the chest wrapped in a new cloak that should fit Hermione perfectly. The cloak itself was wrapped up in brown paper and lying under the tree, just waiting for the morning to come.

Draco watched as Hermione shifted again in her chair, nearly spilling her hot cocoa, another tradition she had shared with him that her family did every Christmas Eve – the drinking, not the spilling – and he decided he should probably do something to help distract her before she blurted out what she wanted to.

“So, since we’ve done some of your traditions, let’s try one of mine. Father would always let us pick out one gift to open on Christmas Eve – not one of the big ones, mind, but something small that we could enjoy.”

“Alright – how about you let me open the rectangular one front-and-center that you keep eyeing, hmm?”

“No, that is probably the best present under the tree. Try again.”

“I highly doubt that,” Hermione teased, “but I will humor you. How about that thin one behind it then?”

“Perfect. Go ahead and open it.”

“But what about you?” she asked. “Which gift are you going to open?”

“Well as you have been messing with the bow on that square box, I’m guessing that one needs to be saved for tomorrow?”

“Yes. It won’t even work until then. Oops!”

Hermione covered her mouth with both hands as Draco laughed.

“Won’t work, eh?” Draco smirked with a raised eyebrow. “Interesting. Alright, then I’ll take this one.”

Reaching down, he grabbed a flat, round package that sounded oddly metallic.

“On the count of three,” Draco instructed, “we open. Okay?”

“Sure!”

“Alright. One, two-”

Draco watched as Hermione started sliding her finger under the paper before he finished counting.

“-THREE!” she shouted, getting very excited as she ripped the wrapping off a small jewelry box.

Draco chuckled at her enthusiasm, choosing instead to more delicately unwrap his present.

“Draco, it’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed, lifting the lid to reveal a thin silver bracelet, delicately adorned with tiny emeralds etched into a serpent, intertwined with a lion likewise made up with tiny rubies.

“I thought you’d like it. Here, let me help you put it on.”

“Oh no. Not until you finish opening your gift. Your rules, not mine.”

Draco playfully rolled his eyes as he finished lifting the last bit of tape, revealing a tin container covered with snowflakes and eight pointed stars. Puzzled, he turned it over a few times trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s a cookie tin,” Hermione explained. “Do you not have them in the wizarding world?”

“No,” he replied, before becoming excited as it clicked. “Wait, there are cookies inside?”

“Of course. Here, pass it to me.”

He handed the tin to her, and a moment later she had twisted off the top to reveal the same type of cookies Ginny had made for the party.

“It’s perfect. Th-thank you.”

Hermione blushed. “Glad you like it.”

“Now, let me help you with that bracelet.”

Draco moved over until he was standing right over her shoulder, leaning up against her back. He could hear her breath catch in her throat as he leaned forward to pull the bracelet from the box. The glinted green and red caught the light in a way only magical jewelry can, and it looked perfect against her skin.

As soon as he finished clasping it around her wrist, he turned his head to graze a light kiss on her neck, causing her to shudder gently. Hermione twisted around slowly until they were facing each other, and placing a finger under his chin lifted it up until she was looking straight into his eyes.

“How about we take this to the bedroom, Mr. Malfoy?” she requested before placing a not-so-chaste kiss upon his lips. “It’s just going to be torture staring at all these gifts. Why don’t we start going to bed?”

“If by going to bed you mean you don’t plan on sleeping anytime soon-”

“I don’t.”

“Then after you my love. We can do presents first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, I might have a present for you before then,” she teased friskily before heading towards their bed.

Draco groaned as a certain feeling washed over him.

“What was in that hot cocoa you were drinking?” he asked as he tore after her.

*****

It was Christmas morning, and Draco, as he often did, awoke to a face full of bushy hair. His arms tightened around the sleeping form in front of him, causing her to stir as well.

“Five more minutes,” Hermione muttered against her pillow.

“Um, Herms, it’s Christmas morning.”

He could feel the energy surge through her as his words registered in her head.

“Eeek!” she exclaimed, jumping from his arms in such haste she almost knocked him off the bed.

“Hey, watch it,” he called playfully, tossing a pillow towards her.

“No, you don’t understand. It’s morning. I have things – a schedule. It can’t-”

Draco rose and approached the frazzled witch.

“Breathe, dear. What on earth could you possibly have scheduled so early on Christmas Day?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“On what time it is. Merlin, it’s nearly nine. Come on, we have to open presents fast.”

Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion. “No tea? Or coffee? Or cocoa first?”

“No time,” she insisted as she pulled him through the apartment and to the tree. “Quick! Open that square box under the tree.”

“And what if I don’t,” he pestered.

“Just – please, do it.”

Hermione rarely reacted negatively to playful banter like this, so Draco assumed it had to be important. Picking the box up, he gently shook it a moment before addressing the wrapping. It was much lighter than he had expected to be – it felt almost like there was nothing in it at all. Curious, he pulled off the paper and opened the nondescript white box he found inside.

Gently lifting out the contents, he saw that he was holding a clear glass orb about the size of a quaffle. Draco turned it over a few times, trying to see if it changed at all as he did, but it appeared to just be a mundane ball of glass. Perplexed, he turned to Hermione who was brimming with excitement.

“What is it supposed to-” he started, but before he could continue the inside swirled like a Remembrall, filling it with a grey smoke before changing into the face of a very familiar witch he missed dearly.

“Mother? Mother!” exclaimed Draco.

“Hello dear,” she replied, her voice emerging perfectly clear from the orb in his hands. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas to you as well. But,” he turned to Hermione. “How?”

“Magic,” she said simply, causing him to give her a slight glare. “It’s a temporary two-way connection spell that’s been set up on a few orbs that can only be activated if both people are holding them at the same time. Your mother has the 9am slot.”

“You mean, there’s more? More people I can talk to today?”

“Of course. Happy Christmas, Draco.”

“Gee,” he turned back to the glass ball in his hands, “is – is everything going alright over there?”

“It’s a bit…lonely, but less so now that I can hear from you. I must admit, I was a little perplexed and skeptical when I was first contacted by the Auror’s office about all this, but Potter was eventually able to convince us it wasn’t a spying operation. Well, convinced me at least.”

Draco knew he had to ask the question, but that didn’t make it any easier to do so.

“How – how is Father?”

“He’s…the same as ever.”

“Still won’t talk to me over my lifestyle choice?”

He could see Hermione cringe out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes. I’m not sure he will ever be alright with his only son living with a mudbl – er, a muggleborn.”

There was an uneasy tension in the air as Draco tried to think of a way to continue the conversation without causing a dispute.

“I am at least happy for this chance to talk to you, though. It’s been far too long.”

“It has,” he agreed readily, an unbidden tear appearing in the corner of his eye.

“Well, I won’t keep you too long. I know there are others you need to speak to today. Just promise me you will write more. I know you don’t have an owl but still-”

“That won’t be a problem anymore. I promise. I will write, Mother. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, love.”

Draco could almost have sworn he saw a tear in her eyes as the orb returned to grey smoke before clearing again.

“So I have a few questions…” Draco began before Hermione placed a silencing finger across his lips.

“Only if you answer me something. What do you mean that it won’t be a problem writing anymore? You didn’t buy an owl, did you? You know my feelings about keeping one in a tiny apartment.”

A sly grin crossed Draco’s face. “Why yes, yes I do. And because of that I think you should open your present now.”

“I knew it. I knew it – this is just the size of an owl cage. I thought you would have listened – oh!”

Hermione ran her fingers across the warm cloak in her hands. “It’s beautiful – and warm enough I can barely hold it on my lap without overheating. This was your big surprise?”

“Of course not. Check inside the cloak for your real present.”

Hermione tilted her head but did as she was instructed revealing his true surprise. The wooden case shined beautifully as she ran her fingers along the woodgrain, obviously puzzled as to what it was.

“Open it. I hope you like it.”

She carefully opened first one door and then another to get a better view. At that moment, one of the owls let loose a well-timed hoot before coming to perch in what to him must have appeared to him to be a window.

“Is – is this enchanted? Why Draco, it’s perfect.”

“It is, isn’t it? And I didn’t get just one owl – Neville advised getting a mated pair to keep one from getting lonely, so we each have an owl now. They won’t be confined to a simple cage, but their container is still small enough for an apartment.”

“I don’t know what to say. You managed to get me both a practical and lovely gift – I don’t feel like my gift is anywhere near as wonderful as yours.”

“Nonsense. You gave me a chance to talk to my mother for the first time in ages. I didn’t think I would have that chance again for a long time, if ever. That alone means more to me than you can imagine. And it sounds like there is more to come – is this what you talked to Potter about at the biscuit baking party?”

“Yes. Ginny let slip ages ago that Harry had found a set of two-way communicating orbs that could be tuned to accept incoming and/or outgoing messages. The one we have here is set as more of a master one that the others can connect to if both it and another orb are being held at the same time. I asked the Auror’s office if we might have a chance to experiment with them to make sure they work, and after throwing a bit of my weight around in the Ministry I was able to make it happen.”

“So, who else has one?”

“Well, Blaise somehow found out rather quickly and secured one before we could even ask him – we had planned to mind you, but I think he sweet talked someone in to slipping him one.”

“Figures.”

“And then Pansy accepted an invite. Not everyone did I’m afraid, most Pureblood families are a little slow to accept such a likely Ministry invasion as your mother had hinted at, but Nott, Flint, and the Greengrasses all wish to speak with you later today as they haven’t had a chance in a long while.”

“Not Goyle?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Oh, there’s one other person that asked to talk with you today.”

“Oh? Who’s that?”

“Your Aunt Andromeda. She thinks its high time the two of you had a chat.”

Draco cringed. He knew the witches were right, but he had been taught from such a young age to hate his aunt that even being in a similar boat as her now he still struggled with his past self and his prejudices.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to talk to her long or even at all. But I’ll be right here by your side regardless. It is Christmas after all. So…do you like your present?”

Draco leaned in and placed a long kiss upon his witch’s lips.

“Immensely. Now let’s go have a proper breakfast before my next appointment to talk to someone. Or would you rather not enjoy a batch of cinnamon rolls today?”


End file.
